Across the Beyond
by Cathamaria
Summary: A seance? What on Earth was Duo thinking? Guess who manages to pass back into the living world...too bad for Une she's too stubborn to believe. See summary inside. VERY ANGSTY. .


Across the Beyond  
  
By: CrimsonDaybreak 2003 (Cat)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to GundamW, its characters, or its plot... I wish I did but I don't. I also claim no ownership over the powers of darkness and the afterlife, or the soul of Treize Khushrenada... Oh, who am I kidding? Treize-sama, you're mine!! *cough* *cough* Er... I mean. Well... Ah, damareseru.  
  
Dedicated to Nightheartchan, who was kind enough to read and review my previous LU+TK fanfic, "The Hell Which Binds Me". Arigatou!! I'm glad you liked it. ^____^  
  
Summary:  
  
Treize Khushrenada, who has been dead for over a year, appears in  
spirit before his best friend, Milliardo Peacecraft with a favour only  
a dead man could ask: Give Lady the will to continue living, and  
convince her that there is life after death. Because without either,  
Une will meet a destiny far worse than that of Treize.  
  
Notes:  
  
I, personally, don't have much belief in the existence of ghosts, or the summoning of  
ghosts by the means of a séance...or any other method for that matter. Believe me,  
my lack of faith is for good reason. I've tried the whole "summon the ghosts through  
the mirror" thing plenty of times. It doesn't work...trust me. The supernatural,  
though, is still a VERY effective literary device...Besides, it's always more fun to  
throw in a little ghostly suspense into a fanfic. ^____^  
  
**********  
  
Across the Beyond  
  
Chapter One: Omae Kanojo Waiu  
  
Darkness. The room lay in utter darkness as the cloaked man sat before them on the Persian rug. In front of him, he placed a small crystal sphere. They all looked on silently, intently, as they waited...except for one. She did not want to be here. She did not want to be a part of this. She did not-- "Believe," was all the man said, cutting off her thoughts as he rose from the floor. Thirteen candles lined the walls of the small room, and before lighting each, he placed the petals of a crimson rose at their bases to catch the dripping wax. A young girl, sitting rigid beside her mother, licked her parched lips in anticipation. The clock told nearly midnight. The cloaked man turned around. "Believe," he muttered once again to the woman in a low voice. "It is you...only you...who can call him."  
  
Her fingernails dug into the soft wood of the table they sat around. Why was she here? Why did she agree to do this? Why? "Mother, please," the young girl whispered. "You promised you would." The woman looked away.  
  
"Are you afraid?" the man with the platinum blonde hair asked as if to mock her.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why--"  
  
"I'll do it...I'll try..." She turned to her daughter. "For you."  
  
The man nodded beneath his hood and sat, his dark cloak surrounding him like the entity of death. A hand he placed on the crystal; the other hand reached out for hers. "Only you," he whispered. "Call him." His hands were as icy as death itself, but hers, she knew, were even colder. Cold because of her loss... Cold because of her pain... Cold. "Focus," he hissed, gripping her tighter. "Summon him." She closed her eyes, wishing for escape. She did not want to do this. No. What if--? Suddenly, the room grew cold; the candles extinguished from an unknown cause. The young girl whimpered. "Shinjiru," he hissed and the room grew silent. Its occupants remained still, like puppets, hoping... waiting. "Jusan (Thirteen)," the man said quietly. "Omae, kanojo waiu. (She calls you.)"  
  
And then they waited. The woman bit down hard on her lip, drawing a faint trace of blood invisible in the darkness. The silence became deafening; the air grew thicker, colder. "Omae, kanojo waiu!" he shouted, and a piece of porcelain pottery fell from the mantle, shattering behind her as it hit the floor. The room's occupants gasped, but the silence grew even denser. The woman was trembling now; her breathing became more unsteady as the grandfather clock continued to count second, after second... after second.  
  
Why was she doing this? Her mind trailed off, giving respite. Why did she agree to this nonsense? What was she doing here with these...friends? No. They could not be called friends, could they? They made her do this. They want to see her pain. They want to watch her mask shatter. Did it give them so much pleasure to see her tears? She felt the hand grasp tighter. Now it seemed so trifle. She was here. She had given her word to her daughter. She would do it. But why was she so reluctant to believe? Was she afraid? Was she refusing to believe in all of this...because she really did believe...and she was afraid that she might have to face him? Here? Now? She would have to face him? No! Her mind screamed for her to stop. Stop asking these questions. Stop thinking. Stop believing. The hand grasped even tighter, and a chill crawled up her spine.  
  
"Believe," the man hissed; his voice was like dry ice now. The woman felt her daughter trembling beside her. Was she afraid too? Was she afraid because she believed? Because she'd have to face him as well? No. This girl was too innocent, too pure, to have to endure this. She shouldn't be here. No.  
  
"Mother," the girl whispered.  
  
"Believe," answered the man, and the little girl said no more. Again the room grew cold, and the woman felt herself becoming more distant...more separated from the living world. The pieces of the shattered porcelain seemed to come together on their own as the room's occupants watched in horror. The woman was the only one who did not see. Her eyes were tightly shut. She was trying to believe. The white porcelain piled itself into a small heap, as if being swept by an invisible hand. This hand, that was so keen on picking up its mess, cut itself carelessly on a broken shard. The blood from this unseen, unknown hand trailed across the tile floor; the crimson liquid pooling before it disappeared completely, taking with it the shards of porcelain. Over the frightened silence, the cloaked man whispered, "Are you here?" There was no reply...only dead silence. "Omae kanojo waiu, Jusan. Are you here?" The others in the room held their breaths, waiting. "Are you here?"  
  
Subconsciously, the woman tightened her grip, a single tear trickling down her cheek. The lump of pain, again, welled up in her chest. Was he here? Was he with them? With her? "Mother," the young girl beside her whispered again; she had noticed that the older woman was crying. "Mother, please don't cry."  
  
"Believe," was all the man said once again. The girl shot him a dangerous glance. How dare he hurt her? She was thinking. Why won't he offer comfort? Why won't he let her stop this? If it's hurting her, then she shouldn't have to--"  
  
"Omae kanojo waiu," the woman whispered hoarsely, choking back her tears. She took everyone by surprise. "Kanojo waiu..." The pain was unbearable. If only she could see him... If only she could summon his spirit to her once more... Maybe it would ease the pain. "Omae watakushi waiu. (I call you.)" Her voice rose slightly, for she feared that her calls would be answered. Was he here?  
  
A shadow swept across the walls. Once, twice, a third time around the room. The man held tighter to the crystal. "You are here," he whispered. The guests in the room gasped again and fell silent.  
  
He was here, the woman thought. He was here, but the pain did not ease; it did not subside as she had hoped. Images flashed through her head. Blood. Death. Destruction. War. It was the cause of all this suffering and she could take no more. She jumped back, a cry escaping her lips as she relinquished herself from the man's grasp. In a dark flash, the shadow vanished from the walls, and all thirteen candles relit the room. The woman stood, her face in shadow, and turned away from the group. "Stop it," she said, almost pleadingly. "Stop it. I want no more of this." She turned to face the cloaked man. "Please leave. I do not want such...such mendacity in my house." Another tear trickled down her cheek before she left the room in silence. Darkness.  
  
"Please forgive my mother," the young girl whispered as the man stood to leave. "This truly hurts her. Do not blame her because she cannot bear to think of him." He nodded, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.  
  
"I'm the one who must be sorry," Duo whispered as he, too, stood from the floor. "I was the one who came up with this idea." Zechs closed his eyes; both he and Noin shared the guilt of forcing her into this. "I should have known she would not appreciate a séance."  
  
"Shadii?"  
  
"Hnn?"  
  
"Does this mean I won't get to see my father?"  
  
The man smiled beneath his dark cloak. "That is where you gain much luck, little one. Your mother allowed him passage to this world. He is here now."  
  
"You mean--"  
  
"Shinjiru. Your mother...she fought to believe, if even for a moment. And she did it. I could feel her struggle. Because she opened up her heart to the belief that he really did exist somewhere...that there really was a place in which spirits reside, she gave him passage to re-enter this world. It was only for a moment, but she gave him a chance. If you believe in him, you can see him...maybe even hear him." Then, with a swish of his long, dark cape, he was gone, and mysteriously, so were the candles and the crystal sphere.  
  
**********  
  
"Get out...both of you." Duo and Zechs were stopped cold by the ice in her voice.  
  
"Lady, please..."  
  
"I said get out. I want no part in your...your witchcraft." She turned to face the window, staring blankly at the clouds as if pretending that neither Duo nor Zechs were there.  
  
"Why can't you just believe?" Zechs asked. Her reply was a cold, harsh laugh. Both men cringed as she turned around. She was silhouetted against the cloudy sky, as if she herself were one of the spirits they had seen gliding along the walls of the dark room during the séance.  
  
"Believe in what?" Yes, she thought. Believe in what? Believe that there was an afterlife? Believe that Treize's soul still did exist somewhere across the beyond? Believe that he was waiting for her? Or did they mean...believe she still had meaning in this life? She laughed again. Yes, she thought, she would be better off dead...like him. Treize.  
  
"Mother?" came Mariemaia's wary voice. "Are you--"  
  
"Go to bed, Marie; it's late." The clock chimed midnight. Go to bed Marie, she thought. Go to sleep. And then wake up, and continue to live. When I sleep, one day I will not awaken. One day no one will be able to save me from myself. One day I will die. Surprised by her mother's briskness of words, Mariemaia scampered out the door and into her own bedroom. She had no idea that Une was not planning to live much longer. But one person knew. One person...but he could do nothing about it.  
  
Duo and Zechs were still present, and a shadow swept up the wall, stopping by the headboard of Une's bed. "He's here," Duo hissed to Zechs. Indeed, the shadow transformed itself into a recognizable man. The black regiment boots, the powerful blue overcoat, the wavy chestnut hair and icy sapphire eyes... It was him. It was Treize Khushrenada. Une, though, remained oblivious.  
  
"Lady," Zechs whispered, "it's Treize. He's here."  
  
"Get out, Zechs. Leave me be."  
  
"Lady, please."  
  
"I said GET OUT!" She whirled around angrily, looking ready to strike them both. "I don't believe in your witchcraft! Treize is NOT here. Treize is DEAD. Do you hear me? DEAD! Now get out before I call the police!" Defeated, Zechs and Duo backed to the door, and as they did, they noticed that Treize had obeyed and done the same. His eyes were sad. As the late general glided to the door, he stopped to caress Lady's tear-streaked face. His hand was cut from the shard of porcelain, and he winced as it came in contact with her salty tears. Again, a trace of blood was left, but it quickly disappeared. Zechs and Duo watched, bewildered. Could Treize's spirit still feel pain? His eyes grew desperate, and there was something painful in his eyes, as if he were trying so hard to show her that he still existed...that he was here. He stroked his hand down the back of her head. She did not feel it. The two men already at the door held back their urge to tell Une what he had done as the phantom general placed a feather-light kiss on her quivering lips.  
  
"Why can't you just believe in me?" he whispered, but only Zechs and Duo heard.  
  
**********  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Wow. I think that went WAY better than expected! I know it was a bit on the weird side, but hey... Please RxR. Thanx!! ^___^ I'll get the next chapter up soon... That is... AFTER I finish that technology project. . Tasukete kure!! I don't wanna fail! I don't wanna! I don't wanna! I don't wanna! *cough* Uh... anyway... 


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